deus ex machina
by lightsthatguideus
Summary: "And he wonders why he didn't love her from the first moment he saw her." / The realization of Scorpius Malfoy, and how it took so long. S/R


_"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."_

_― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches_

* * *

_Deus ex machina- a Greek term that describes an event to change the hero's perspective or storyline that occurs at the end of the novel_

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

He doesn't believe in love at first sight, anyways. The epiphany of love in itself seemed to be too unintelligent for a pureblooded standard such as himself. It was a stupid, Muggle-made contraption that Scorpius found boring and unappetizing, surprisingly so at only the age of eleven.

He remembered the day he saw her well, and love at first sight wasn't an issue for him. She had chubby little cheeks, blazing red hair, and a tinge in her face to match. She clung to her mother like it was a raft for life, and she kept giving little, anxious smiles to a boy doing the same to his father.

It made Scorpius sick.

His father must've felt his gaze upon the Potter-Weasley family, as he felt a strong hand clasp his shoulder and turn him around; the sneer on Draco's face wasn't entirely well hidden as he glared at the happy little family. With the automatic response to do as a father does, the child sneered back, and turned his head away.

He made sure to stick his foot out especially for Rose Weasley in the middle of the corridor. Every chance he got.

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

He was bitter about her very presence in the first place. Perfect little Rose Weasley, the smart one, the funny one, that little second year that everyone just _adored_. It made him retch uncontrollably (mentally, of course) with the thought. He could hardly comprehend the reasoning of the entire affection-she was annoying, frumpy, corny, and her giggle was so high pitched that it reminded Scorpius of a dying bird.

And the worst part about it was, the more people loved Rose Weasley, the more they came to despise Scorpius Malfoy. He was in the similar description to the anti-Christ in their minds; everything Rose was, he wasn't. Except for the brilliance that always seemed to give a higher hand to her on a test or an essay or a paper. It got to a point where Scorpius made sure to sit his books in the table behind her, just to get a peek at her test scores. It was infuriating. And, admittedly, a little pathetic.

He was almost sure that all the love came from not personality, but simply parentage. All the "Golden Children"-James and Albus Potter, Rose Weasley, Daniel Longbottom-they were all publicly _adored_. And people like Scorpius Malfoy and Reese Goyle and everyone of that nature-they were all instead publicly shunned in a synonymous fashion.

Because of this, he made sure to beat her as much as his mind and skill would let him. Just to see the bitter little expression on Rose Weasley's perfect life.

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

It's pretty much a universal rule that you don't love your rivals. It was acclaimed throughout the centuries, from Hades and Zeus to Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. And Scorpius saw no reason to disrupt this easy flow now, so early still, in wizarding history. Instead, he found as many reasons to hate her as you could find pieces of pollen in a flower. From the initial, on the surface reasons (frumpy, giggle, intelligence), to her personality in itself. The way she raised her hand from every question like her life depended on it, the way she declined invites to Hogsmeade to study for a final, the way she always jumped around and danced some stupid little dance every time Gryfinndor won a Quidditch game (or worse-if she caught the Snitch.)

He sneered at her very presence in life, and he groaned every time a teacher called on her with a look of affection at their brilliant little pupil. Sometimes, when he muttered various insults under his breath, passing her in the corridors or when an assignment was handed back, he saw her face begin to tremble, and the smile she previously bore went away as quick as it came.

He made sure then, to become extra clever, and push the boundaries of cruel. But he never made her cry-because when she cried, guilt came, and Malfoys hate guilt more than anything.

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

Though, he did admit-summer had suited her well.

Within only three short months, it seemed that everyone got taller, some in a good way, some in bad (it would take poor Albus Weasley two more years before he found a girl that suited his height.) Scorpius couldn't complain-the Muggle curses of acne and other side effects of puberty were far from his early teenage years. He went through the summer without any difficulty, his skin remaining pristine and his face only developing into the sharp, cool, handsome qualities his father had once possessed.

It seemed that summer blessed others just as it had blessed him-Denise Corner came out with a sizable chest that she didn't seem to mind showing off, the previously midget-like Damien Finnigan returned with hard, tough muscles with four inches to match. But people over the school seemed to all agree that the woman of the hour wasn't the sized Denise Corner, but the formerly frumpy, freckle-cursed Rose Weasley.

Even Scorpius noticed as she walked down the Great Hall, skinnier, prettier, and that little giggle that used to pain him so much now perked up his ears, and sometimes he found himself turning around and just looking to catch of hint what this girl seemed to find so very funny. He mentally slapped himself each time, without any sizable outcomes (the physical slaps didn't help so much, but the thing was a bit therapeutic.)

And then the dreams began-the thoughts of her face cleared everything else, and his previous ritual of sitting behind her soon became something of a distraction, and even when he's blessed from a tiring day of studying or Quidditch practice, he's greeted with visions of her face, her eyes, that little giggle that's slowly driving him mad.

He made sure, then, to run faster, study harder, train in a more grueling fashion-anything to rid himself of the little minsk he called Rose Weasley.

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

But he stopped hating her a long time ago.

He decides a lot of things with his newfound maturity, Scorpius does. He learns the art of utilizing his good looks and figuring out which teachers to charm and which teachers to not, because they'll charm you with their wands, and it's not enjoyable. He also learns what to say to the perky little girls that seem to garner a new liking for him, and he learns what to say to the ones he likes, and how to let them down gently.

And among those, he decides that Rose Weasley isn't exactly the _worst _thing that could possibly happen to him.

She doesn't wear that smug little look now, every time she gets a question. When Gryfinndor wins, she stops gloating, and smiles at the other team in a heartbreaking way that only makes the school love her more (of course, it doesn't affect Scorpius so much, but he appreciates the gesture.) The two of them don't read in competition every time they find themselves in the library at the same time.

He also decides that he's being a bit of an idiot, noticing all this. Whatever drove his thoughts to continually pull towards Rose Weasley was something of a mystery to him. It was simple science that he should hardly pay attention to her-they were hardly ever partnered in class, teachers thinking it'd be a disadvantage, they were in different houses (exactly opposite houses, if I might add), not to mention their very names drew contrast. They hardly spoke to each other in the first place, besides the sometimes playful banter that came every now and then at the library.

And yet, she interested him. Not in the way you would think, he adds hastily, as he studies her. But she's like something of nature-something too precious and too intriguing to not be observed. He catches himself staring at her, merely wondering what's going on inside her head, and at moments, he even misses the points of class to a level where he has to ask Goyle if he can borrow his notes. It's embarrassing.

He knows that he's not alone, either. The once simple Rose Weasley turns into an accidental love interest to many, and boys either braver or dumber than Scorpius follow her like medicine in a plague. It gets a bit annoying, seeing them all sit with her and make desperate attempts at conversation, so much that Scorpius clears his throat once in the library when Tyler Green attempts to discuss a weekend at Honeyduke's with Rose.

And he doesn't see it, but Rose looks up at him, and gives him a thankful smile. Because, while they're different, they both agree mentally that a Potions final is ten times the importance of chocolate amphibians (well, they're wizards, so I guess it's not as big of a deal to _them._)

He made sure, then, to send those boys a message that he was there. And after a while, rumors start circulating that Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley are shagging in the library shelves. And, of course, they both deny it, but at various intervals, they blush when they catch each others gaze amongst a mound of books.

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

And yet.

The conversations grow longer as they both study for those grueling exams. And it stops being a competition, as well, and sometimes, they even joke lightly about the ridiculousness of it all, and the stupidity of those surrounding them. He becomes (platonically) infatuated with her giggle, and suddenly her bright, red hair looks too soft and her eyes too bright, and he starts wondering if she ever did take any of those boys up on an offer.

He finds out the answer.

It's late at night, and he won't lie-he's had one too many butter beers. He returns to Hogwarts with his mind slightly foggy, and he's probably not the greatest judge of sounds and what not, but he swears that he hears racks of endless sobbing.

His ears perk up, and he looks about the courtyard. It seems remotely empty, but people go here more often than not to let out their encased sobs. For a moment, he almost looks away. But this sound seems significant-it's almost like a giggle that he heard only hours ago, only filled with despair instead of laughter.

And finally, he finds Rose Weasley, sitting alone (an unusual aspect of her social life), sobbing into her hands. She sits upon a stone bench, moonlight shining upon her, looking like the perfect picture of a Shakespearean heartbreak. He feels the urge to leave (he'd learnt long ago from his mother that, when a woman is crying, it's either best to comfort them, or get as much distance between them as possible.) However, that little stitch of the hated Malfoy guilt comes upon him, and he keeps a sigh in as he walks towards her. And for once, he thinks, when talking to a girl, he's not totally sure what to say.

Thankfully, she notices him before he has to open his mouth, and a little smile comes upon her wet face.

"I look beautiful tonight, don't I, Malfoy?" she asks, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she suppressed another sob. "That's what I was going for."

Scorpius remained at loss for words, and decidedly sits down, and says the only two basic words that he could comprehend in his mind at the moment-

"What happened?"

Rose chuckled, and looked up, replying, "Men happened."

"I apologize." Rose smiled again, and sniffed heavily.

"But seriously," he begins, sincere concern coming about him. "What is it?"

She shrugs, and mutters, "It's really stupid."

"Rose, you're probably the smartest person I know-besides me." He makes her laugh again. That love of accomplishment passed down through generations of the Malfoy family tree familiarizes with him.

"Well, Albus," she begins, taking out a handkerchief and wiping her cheeks. "He fixed me up with this friend of his I liked-you know Henry Aberforth?"

_Tall, Gryfinndor keeper, handsome, followed around by his own little set of groupies. A big arrogant, always looking after you like a piece of meat, not that I notice that kind of stuff. _"Yeah, I know Henry."

"Anyways, so I go on the date, and we're having fun and all, and I'm thinking 'this is just great, Rose, you really struck gold here-" A heavy sob comes up again, and falls back as quickly as it came. "-and so then, I-I go to get some more Butter beers, and-and I come back, and he's there with Michelle Clearwater. Do you know _her_?" she then asked bitterly.

_Gorgeous, blonde, Ravenclaw seventh-year, I went out with her for a week, probably the best snog of my life-and I most certainly notice_ that _kind of stuff_."Yeah, I know Michelle."

Satisfied, her voice turns angry and she continues, "So I come back, and says, 'hey Rose, you know Michelle?' And of course, _everyone _know Michelle, that little..._harlet." _Scorpius loses the straight face, and a spontaneous laugh bursts out of him. Rose immediately hits him in the shoulder, repeating 'it's not funny!' several times, before Scorpius finally calms himself, and asks, "Continue, please?"

Rose rolls her eyes, but continues on anyways- "So, I sit there, looking like a _complete _idiot, and it turns out, it's-_they're back together, _and he didn't even know it's a date, and Al just...Al won't stop _looking at me _like I'm some abandoned puppy, and I just..."

Another unintentional sob comes out of her, and tears start to form in her eyes. He knows that it's probably just the moment, but Scorpius never noticed them. They're clear and blue, like the sky, or something, and maybe it's the hormones talking, but he thinks she looks stunning. And that Henry Aberforth doesn't know what he's missing (he thinks that sounds pretty good, so he tells her that.)

She gives him a half-hearted smile, and says, "You know, Scorpius, everyone thinks you're this mega jackass with sexy hair, but I think you're kind of sweet."

Scorpius shrugs in a playful manner, but underneath he hopes that the blush that threateningly tinges his cheeks won't be noticeable under the winter moonlight.

He does make sure then, that he knocks his shoulder into Henry's through the corridors, and doesn't bother to hide the smirk on his face when he does it.

* * *

He didn't love her at first.

But he think he might now.

But of course, he's a Malfoy, and he's tentative all year about this theory of "love." He sees forming couples surrounding him, including Albus Potter and the then-single Michelle Clearwater, a match that seems to make Rose both green with envy and red with anger. Unlike Rose, however, he doesn't feel any special desire to join in on their little gang de amor. In fact, he knocks down more girls than he can count, all containing flaws he finds undesirable-a know-it-all, a "harlet", a talker, sensitivity, etc. But it comes to a point where Scorpius begins to wonder aloud what's wrong with _this _one, or _that _one, or maybe _this _one. It becomes harder to shoot them down, and at one point, Goyle becomes upfront and asks, "Who're you waiting for, mate?"

He doesn't know the answer until the year is near over.

It's a very emotional affair, Scorpius thinks, and rolls his eyes at the thought. Friends hugging friends, enemies making up, teachers getting a glint in their eye every time they mention the upcoming ceremony. Scorpius understands _why _everyone finds themselves all wrapped up in the moment, but he sees not significance to it. It's just like the ending to every other school year, except now, they just won't come back. It's much too sentimental for him, so he doesn't really partake in it.

Until it's the last final of the year, and the only two people not outside enjoying the June sunshine are Rose and Scorpius. Just how it always was, he thinks, as he opens his Herbology book.

He thinks constantly of what he could say-the next time they'll see each other socially will be when they're practically fully-grown adults. It'll only be a matter of time before his little "theory" that Rose Weasley may be more than just that pretty girl who debates with him about the uses of fungi is put to the actual test, and he concludes that even if this little _feeling _he's getting in the pit of his stomach is merely a teenage crush, he should at least make one more experiment before closing the case and moving on from it.

He looks up from his book, and then into the window. Sunlight gleams through it seductively, and for the first moment in his life, Scorpius almost wants to leave Rose on her way to success and go out. But instead, he decides to be metaphorical about it, and slams the book shut. It echoes through the library, and, as predicted, she looks up immediately with her eyes wide with surprise, and, slight amusement.

"Scorpius Malfoy," she asks, eyebrow up and eyes glistening with the thought of pure fun. "What's gotten into _you_?"

He smirks at her, and jerks his head towards the window. "Say we give up this whole competition and go out and be healthy, normal human beings?"

She smiles, and replies, "Well, it certainly _is _a change of pace, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm a man of adventure, Weasley." After a glance at her Potions essay, the Granger-half of Rose Weasley is taken over by the true Weasley, and she immediately follows Scorpius out the library door, and into the long stretch of Hogwarts territory that must've been blessed to them by the gods.

Of course, some people are surprised for various reasons. Some are glad that Rose finally got out, and others are bitter that she chose to go out with _Malfoy_. Some wonder if they're finally together, and others think one of them is off their rocker. And both the Gryfinndors and the Slytherins think aloud in synchronization that they could both do better.

But they're oblivious to this, and they branch out about to their groups, and cross paths again, and branch out, and cross paths. The day ends with everyone but them gone, while they sit next to the lake, just talking, both acting much too deep for seventeen-year-olds.

"My dad would freak if he found out where I was right now," she remarked. The two were lying down, hands behind heads, glancing up into the darkening sky. Her red hair sprayed out against the grass, and if Scorpius had turned his head, his theory may've been proven correct.

But instead, he said, "Please. My father would hex me so fast it'd be like a rainbow was coming out of his wand."

Rose giggles at this (it's like a heroine, he concludes-he's never going to stop hearing it, and he doesn't want to stop in the first place.)

But the giggling stops, and she states in a clear voice, "It's all very stupid, isn't it?"

He brings up an eyebrow, and asks curiously, "What?"

"This whole...rivalry, thing. Do you know what my dad told me in first year? Right before I go on the train?"

"No," Scorpius replied, his interest growing.

"He said, 'Make sure and beat him on every test, Rosie." She giggles at her father's loving stupidity, and says, "I think I did a good job on that, didn't I?"

Scorpius scoffed. "There were failures, Ms. Confidence."

"Not often."

"Well."

She giggles again, and Scorpius feels that little Malfoy sense of accomplishment run through him again, wondering if his father and grandfather and so on had felt this as well. Maybe it was hereditary. In that case, he thinks amusingly, God bless his genes.

"What does that make us, then?" she asks curiously, her face drawing up in thought.

"What do you mean?" he asked, and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her. At that moment, however, his theory wasn't proven correct-but he did admit to himself, for the first time not sounding in denial, that she was perfectly beautiful in that moment.

"I mean," she continued. "I mean, if we're friends, and everyone else are rivals, then doesn't that have a special title? Like...star-crossed something?"

He shrugged. "Star-crossed lovers comes to mind, I suppose," he remarks, and he regrets it the moment he says it. Rose, being Rose, takes knowledge of the statement, and looks at him with wide eyes-not filled with fright, but scary (in a teenage sense) all the same.

Apologies and excuses run through his mind, and he tries to open his mouth to find something to say, but instead he finds nothing, and sputters like an idiot. But Rose's look of surprise fades away, and before Scorpius can manage to string a sentence together (and maybe get his regular pale color back into his pink cheeks), she simply asks, "Scorpius, do you...what...love me, or fancy me, or...I don't know, something?"

It's deathly silent, and Scorpius' lack of words stops in its own shock. He blinks once, and then twice, and then his mind makes up, and he can think of nothing to say to her except, "Not at first. I-I thought you were kind of annoying, and...and I don't know, I just...I think I love you, and...wait, I _know I_...I _know _I love you, and-"

He stops there, unsure of what else to say. She looks at him, for a moment, and he hopes she won't slap him, or worse, leave. But instead, she does something that he doesn't expect.

She grabs his shirt collar, and pulls him in, before kissing him.

He's frozen, and he doesn't know what to do, and he's never been so nervous in his life. But reason comes upon him, and he suddenly realizes if he doesn't do something, she'll stop. He tentatively took his hand, and with hesitation, as if she were a gentle flower about to break, he places it on her cheek. Her hand roamed through his hair and around his neck, and when she pulls back, her eyes are glistening. And she giggles. With happiness.

He was glad that he made sure that he loved her, Scorpius thinks. He also wishes he's done it a long time ago. And then he wonders why he didn't just fall in love with her from the first moment he saw her.

_Fin._

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A/N: please do not favorite without reviewing. if you'd like to see the Spanish version of this fic, just visit the author **Jeziik**.


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